The Treatment
by Fletty
Summary: Scott and Gordon don't get along, so Jeff decides to submit them to... The Treatment. But will it work? Or will it doom International Rescue?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own the Thunderbirds.

After months (and months!) of reading the great many, wonderful, and wide variety of stories on the Thunderbirds page, I finally feel I have a unique story that is worth telling. I feel terrified about the upcoming action sequences, as I don't know the terms of machinery to save my life, so I admit, I will probably be using the various knowledge and procedures that I have picked up from the many great author's I have read on here. However, I will be doing my best to not steal anyone's ideas, so let me know if you have any problems (And please excuse any mistakes; I don't have a beta right now)

I would appreciate your comments and reviews, as they help me to become a better writer. So please press the button and type a quick note to me!

Note: I personally cannot stand it when there's an Acronym used throughout the story that isn't explained further on what it stands for. Therefore, for those that might not know: **IR** stands for International Rescue, and **SOP** stands for Standard Operating Procedure.

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><p>The Treatment - Chapter 1<p>

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><p>"I'm serious, Gordon – if you <em>ever<em> pull a stunt like that again, it'll be the last time you ever go out on a rescue!" Scott stormed into the IR Command Room. He was furious.

Gordon followed Scott out from the hidden door behind their IR paintings and tried to speak calmly to explain his actions. His back hurt, and he walked with a slight limp, wanting to use his hand to support his back and help relieve the pain; but he refused to show weakness in front of his brother. "But Scott – you weren't there when it happened; they –"

"I mean it Gords! You are a representative of International Rescue. You are expected to follow procedure; _you _are the one who is supposed to protect them! _Not_ the other way around!"

Alan and Virgil walked into the room, having settled the Thunderbirds in their bays from the recent rescue. They silently watched as they heard their brothers storm it out, not at all worried; they'd heard it all before.

"It was a young girl, Scott! She was terrified!" Gordon was usually a placid fellow, but right now his face was flushed with anger.

"Oh, so because she was _terrified,_ you decided to carry her on your back?"

Virgil and Alan whipped their heads to Gordon in shock. It was a well-known fact that Gordon suffered from back pain; a result from a hydro-foil crash during his WASP days; but it rarely bothered him unless he strained it. Carrying an overweight, twelve year old girl on his back down five flights of stairs would not have done his back any justice.

"What else would you have me do, Scott? The building was on fire, and she'd sprained her ankle badly! I couldn't leave her there, could I?" Gordon yelled in anger.

"You could have called for assistance, like the SOP states!"

"Oh, yes - and meanwhile, we would've burnt to a crisp while waiting!"

"Hey, Scott," Virgil tried to interrupt. "It doesn't sound like anything bad happened; Gordy made it out okay, and he only did what any one of us would've done."

"Oh, but he didn't!" Scott crowed, turning on his brother quickly. "Did you not hear what happened next, Virge?"

"I remember overhearing that Gordy had a bit of trouble at one time during the rescue, but that it was all sorted quickly," Alan stated quietly.

"Yes, because I went in to save him!" Scott spat.

Gordon looked slightly humiliated, but what else could he have done? It wasn't his fault that he made it down three flights of stairs before his back was put out. He had been in that much pain he was lucky they didn't fall down half a flight of stairs. Instead, he'd grabbed the railing and froze; calmly asked the girl to jump off, before radioing Scott in for assistance.

Although Scott, as Field Commander, admittedly shouldn't have left his post at Mobile Control, the situation had been winding down at that time, as everybody else had already vacated the building. In the end, it had only taken a few minutes to get them both evacuated, although Scott had given scathing looks at Gordon rather unprofessionally the entire time; a warning sign to Gordon that his Commander wasn't anywhere near finished dealing with his younger brother.

"If you want to talk about failing the SOP's, Scott, then why did you leave Mobile Control?" Gordon stormed in retaliation. "You keep carrying on about how important it is that we need it; but all you do is stand around and issue orders! Why don't you ever help out on rescues, huh, Scott? Admit it, it's because you're useless in the field!"

Scott gaped at him in shock for a second before scoffing. "Yeah, right - you know for a fact that that's not true – in fact, with my Air Force training, I'm probably more qualified than you!" Scott raged, while this time, Gordon scoffed.

Scott walked right up to Gordon and shoved him lightly in the chest. "Admit it; your back probably doesn't even hurt right now. After all, it was _years_ ago that you had that accident; but even if it _did_ still cause you pain now, then you have absolutely no right being out in the field at all!"

Gordon soured and rubbed tenderly at his chest where Scott had poked it. "It does too hurt, Scott; I would never lie about that – after all, it's yet _another _one of your stupid SOP's that we report every injury!"

"Yes, but half the time, I swear you just use that excuse to get out of cleaning up after a rescue!"

"I do not!"

"Do too!"

"STOP!" thundered Jeff. He had stormed into the control room from his office, having heard more than enough. Obviously, these two weren't capable of sorting their disagreements out maturely and amicably.

The two men mentally shook themselves as they suddenly become aware of the compromising position they found each other in. They each still glared at each other, but gradually both turned towards Jeff.

The tension in the room was thick.

Jeff turned to the two whom were still standing there silently witnessing the fight. "Alan; Virgil; please excuse yourselves and go clean up. Kyrano will be serving afternoon tea shortly, and I need to have a word with your brothers."

Alan nodded to his father and Virgil gave Scott a sideways glance before they both quickly left the room.

Jeff turned to the two standing before him and spoke low but seriously. "Both of your actions lately have been abysmal; neither of you can stand there right now and honestly say that you're reflecting a good persona of what an IR representative should be. No, I don't want to hear it, Scott!" Jeff jumped in as Scott looked to defend himself. "I'm highly disappointed in you both right now, and I don't want to hear another word out of the two of you for the rest of the day." He huffed indignantly at his two sons. "Now go away. We will handle the debriefing later – _separately,_ if needed. Go cool yourselves down - or you'll regret it." His words left for no imagination of what that might be.

The ashamed two said meekly, "Yes, Father," before sending each other a final glare and stalking out of the room.

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><p>Jeff sat down behind his desk and sighed in exasperation. "I don't understand how those two get so riled up these days," he said to Kyrano as he entered the room. "They're becoming so more and more impossible to deal with. Pretty soon I'm going to be forced to take action against them both, which won't be good; for either IR, OR them, as a good career move."<p>

"Perhaps Master Gordon and Master Scott just need a reminder on why they are both equally important to International Rescue," Kyrano spoke softly, his eyes passive.

Jeff sighed. "That would be great; though I'm coming up 'nil' for ideas on that count. I'm starting to think that nothing short of a miracle will make any difference. Any ideas, Kyrano?"

Kyrano lowered his head in solemn thought, before shortly shaking his head in quiet defeat.

"Master Tracy; although I can think of one such miracle, I must profess my fears that it may not work in this instance. The consequences it could result in if it were to not work out could be dire to both your family, and to International Rescue."

"What does it involve?" Jeff asked curiously.

"It is a treatment that takes place over several days. It would require total trust and cooperation from both parties. Communication is vital to its success. Should the treatment succeed however, your company could benefit greatly."

"Hmm, it sounds intriguing, Kyrano. What are the chances though, that it wouldn't succeed?"

"That would ultimately depend on your sons, Mr Tracy. I have heard stories of when it does not succeed; although I must admit, it is the successful treatments which are the stories that are more talked about amongst my people."

"Will it injure them in any way? Does it still allow them to handle heavy machinery?"

"Not at all, Mr Tracy; the treatment is perfectly safe. They will still be able to work on the Thunderbirds. However, I cannot speak for the individual actions the two will take during the duration of the treatment. Those consequences would be up to them; and them alone."

"Right..." Jeff sighed again, suddenly feeling his age. He was considered to be a very decisive person; he had no qualms at all when it came to making tough decisions in the best interests of his company. However, it was another thing entirely, when it came down to the safety of his boys.

Jeff thought back over the last few months; how the arguments had started out small, but would eventually erupt into gigantic shouting matches between his usually stoic and professional eldest, and his down-to-earth, funny and light-hearted son.

Jeff had stood back at first, wanting them to have the ability to sort out their problems themselves, but when it become too much, he would be forced to intervene. Unfortunately, it had been happening more and more frequently, and Jeff was at his wit's end. He realised that International Rescue would not be able to work proficiently whilst two of their members were always at each other's throats.

In the end, there was really only one thing to do. Jeff just had to take a deep breath and put his faith into his two feuding boys, and hope that they could come out of this experience with a better understanding than before they went in. Jeff looked up at Kyrano, and spoke firmly just three words.

"Make it happen."

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><p>Gordon gently lowered himself into the steaming bathtub and exhaled as the hot water immediately went to work on his sore back muscles.<p>

Admittedly, he was still steaming himself over the rescue and everything else. He should really have thanked Scott for saving him, he realised, but what with their animosity towards each other lately, it would probably be safer if he just stayed away. The arguing had steadily been getting worse, and Gordon was at a loss at what to do about it.

After afternoon tea, he had jumped straight onto the vid-phone to vent his frustrations to John up in Thunderbird Five, whom had done great at calming the redhead down. Although Alan and he got on famously, Gordon always felt calmer after discussing his everyday annoyances to John. It had been happening more frequently as of late, due to his rising tempers around Scott. Gordon didn't know what it was about his eldest brother that yanked his chain, but it was becoming more irritating at how little control he felt he had over his actions.

Gordon took a deep breath and submersed himself completely underwater in the bathtub, feeling his back begin to loosen up. It would be tender tomorrow, he realised. But by now, Gordon was used to his back's painful little 'episodes,' and there was nothing that could really be done about that.

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><p>That evening around the fireplace, Kyrano came out with a calming herbal tea for everyone. Although the Tracy's were American; and therefore, essentially coffee drinkers; Kyrano had tonight appealed to them the benefits of a healthy herbal tea, which would let them sleep easier and let them awaken refreshed the next day.<p>

Unbeknownst to the tea drinkers however, two mugs were not at all what they seemed to be.

Scott drank his down slowly, not really liking the taste of it, but he was too polite to refuse Kyrano. He was seated at one end of the enormous couch, and refused to glance up at the other end, where his aggravating brother was seated. Scott really didn't understand Gordon. His comical way of seeing life was inappropriate for some situations, in Scott's opinion. The pranks he and Alan pulled together were both childish and immature. But Alan was several years younger than Gordon, so he didn't feel Scott's wrath anywhere near as much as the exuberant redhead did. Scott sighed exhaustedly and drained the dregs of his tea, shuddering at the last, final taste, before putting his mug down and announcing that he was heading off to bed.

As he crawled into bed, Scott soon dropped off to sleep. It had been a long, tiring day, and Scott was very much looking forward to seeing a brighter one tomorrow...

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><p>TBC...<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, Firstly: Did anyone want to have a guess at what might be about to happen? I'm really interested in your thoughts so far!

Secondly, I would like to state that under no circumstances do I mean to insult anyone when they talk about the 'nuthouse'. I just wanted to bring across the boys shocked feelings as they realise the situation they are in.

Also, it might get slightly confusing from here on in (you'll soon know what I mean) but I've tried to simplify it as much as possible, by **using single 'apostrophes' when the character's are referring to their physical bodies**. If that doesn't make sense, (hopefully it doesn't, as I didn't want to give anything away; but felt I should warn you) then it soon will!

Hope you enjoy, and please leave a review afterwards.

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1, but to state once more; I don't own the Thunderbirds.

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><p><strong>The Treatment - Chapter 2<strong>

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><p>Scott ruffled around under his bed sheets, taking his time to wake up. Unlike some people - namely his brothers - he had an internal clock that allowed him to wake up at the same time every day, no matter how late he went to bed. While his brother John was a typical space cadet – seemingly awake at any time of the day or night – Scott and Gordon were both early risers, due to their time spent in different military establishments. Virgil and Alan however – well, a bomb could be put under their beds and Scott still doubted that they would wake up in time to move.<p>

_Well - time for a run,_ Scott thought, opening his eyes and sitting up, causing his back to flare suddenly in pain.

'OW!' Scott yelped quietly, but froze in total shock. Not only did his voice sound high-pitched - which was unusual for him in the mornings - he looked around at his surroundings and realised – _he wasn't in his room._

In fact, he was in _Gordon's_ room! Why on earth was he in GORDON'S room? Scott tried to think... did he get drunk last night? He didn't feel groggy... but then, he always had been able to recover quickly from his liquor. Was he sick?

_Yes,_ Scott thought. _That must be it; and this is just a hallucinated dream I'm having. _

Nevertheless, he swung his legs over the edge to stand up and realised – these_ weren't _his legs_... His_ legs weren't slightly shorter; or covered in freckles for that matter... what on earth was going on?

The morning alarm next to the bed suddenly lit up and started blaring loudly – it gave Scott a sudden scare before he struggled to turn the thing off until finally, the room was in silence once more.

Scott's brain was having trouble comprehending, but he stood up quickly – _again_ feeling the slight burn from his back in pain, and had to take a second to find his balance to compensate for his unnatural equilibrium.

He didn't understand; what was wrong with him? Why was he in pain? Why was he waking up in Gordon's room? Scott was feeling understandably stressed, and quickly stalked over towards the door, before catching a glance of himself in the full-length mirror.

Scott's eyes bugged out and he did the most ludicrous double-take he'd ever seen, as he suddenly lunged out frantically towards the mirror, tripping over a shoe that had been left carelessly on the floor by its owner.

Scott grabbed at his reflection, desperate to see clearer, but even with his nose two centimetres from the mirror, it still didn't make sense. _How is this possible? _

For there, reflected back at him, looking at him in shock; was Gordon.

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><p>Scott blanched.<p>

"Wha-?" he yelped, before clutching suddenly at his throat. _That _wasn't his voice that had come out of his mouth. It was Gordon's! And why was Gordon suddenly _also _clutching desperately at his throat in the mirror? Was this some elaborate prank of his? But then, how did he get in the mirror?

Scott did a sudden swift movement in the mirror, and was surprised to see Gordon reflect it back to him, in perfect synchronicity. Scott scrubbed at his face in disbelief, trying to clear his eyes before looking desperately into the mirror again.

But no matter where he turned, all he saw... were _Gordon's _green eyes; _Gordon's_ red hair; _Gordon's_ ears, _Gordon's_ nose, _Gordon's_ arms, _Gordon's_ legs, _Gordon's _torso... He was IN Gordon's body!

Scott did the only thing that came naturally... He screamed.

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><p>Unfortunately, it was not a scream that was loud enough to wake himself up from this nightmare.<p>

Nor was it enough to bring anyone else stampeding in here; but then, Gordon's rooms _were _placed a ways away from everyone else's. This was because, when Gordon had first injured his back, it was easier for him to be situated in the closest available room to the pool; that way, he was able to walk out to the pool himself, where he could practice his exercises in peace without bothering anyone to assist him.

Scott wondered where the real Gordon was – _Had Scott taken over his brain? Was Gordon still in here?_ – before realising the only real, possible solution... Gordon had to be where _Scott's _body had last been seen; in _his_ room, in _his_ bed.

Scott left the room, forgoing the slippers, but at least he was sensible enough to grab Gordon's robe from behind the door as he left. He pulled it about himself – feeling awkward about it too – before racing down the hallways towards his own room.

He nearly froze as he saw his father heading past him; was his dad someone else too?

"Good morning, son," his father spoke blearily; he hadn't yet had his first cup of coffee.

"Morning... ah, Father," Scott spoke. It didn't _seem _as though his dad was anyone else. He couldn't help but wonder though; did he look like Gordon to his father too? Surely his dad would know who he really was!

But Jeff passed by him nonchalantly, intent on making his way to the kitchen for his wake-up brew.

And in any case, Scott had more to worry about on his hands right now. Like finding out what Gordon had done. Turning away, he took off once again.

He came to a sudden stop at the door – nearly afraid of going in... but he wasn't the Field Commander for nothing. He grasped the handle firmly and peered inside into the darkness, seeing an unusual, yet eerily familiar figure asleep on his bed.

Scott stalked quietly into his room, almost afraid to wake the thing – his body – up; but at a loss for what else to do, he finally reached out and shoved his own shoulder.

"Gordon? Are you in there?" he asked softly, in Gordon's vocal tenor.

_Man, this is such a weird dream,_ Scott thought, and sincerely hoped that that was all this was; just a REALLY weird dream.

But nothing could compare to the feeling he had when his body on the bed suddenly moved slightly, and Scott called out to it again, this time more confident.

"Gordon? Come on, dude, wake up-"

And then Scott realised that nothing could compare to THIS feeling, as his own body suddenly glanced up at him, eyes narrowing sharply at the sight of what he thought was Gordon standing above him.

They both looked at each other in shock, before 'Scott' on the bed suddenly let rip with a loud, fearful shout.

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

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><p>Gordon, given his - usually proud - ability to see the light side of things, honestly felt stricken with fear when he was first shoved roughly awake to see his own body standing above him. Later, he would ashamedly admit to himself that he had at first thought it was an alien come to steal him and take his place. But although he dismissed that thought quickly, the terror still came over him and he yelled out aloud.<p>

"Gordon, SHUT IT!" Scott hissed sharply, and felt strange reaching out to put 'Gordon's' hand over his own mouth to muffle the terrified sound coming from his own vocal chords. He looked over his body in slight shock. He hadn't realised his voice could actually reach _that _high a pitch!

"What – WHO ARE YOU!" 'Scott' on the bed roared. "What are you doing in MY body?"

"Gordon, be quiet! It's me, Scott! And – Stop it, I said! – I could ask you the same thing!" Scott griped, before grabbing for the bedside mirror and holding it up to Gordon's line of sight.

Gordon stopped struggling as he took one look in the mirror, before reaching for it desperately to hold and bring it closer to his face. He squinted as he tried to see clearer in the poor, early morning light. "Scott? Wha -?" He froze and fell quiet, seemingly in shock. Scott didn't believe his act though for a _second._

"So tell me; what did you do? Is this for real?" Scott hissed angrily at Gordon on the bed.

When Scott didn't get an answer though, he leaned in and shook Gordon's shoulders roughly. "Gordon, _what did you do?"_

Gordon was still peering at his reflection in the mirror, trying to come to terms with what he was seeing. Upon being shaken alert, he unknowingly repeated Scott's words in a shaky whisper, "Is this for real?"

"It bloody better not be! Now, whatever prank you're pulling Gordon, I want you to undo it, _right now!_" Scott was furious; Gordon saw his own face was bright red in anger.

Gordon looked a little unnerved. "Wh-what do you mean, Scott?"

Scott slammed his fist down on the cupboard in disgust. "What do you think I mean? Whatever you did, I want you to undo this right now!" he seethed. "Swap us back!"

"_I didn't do this_!" Gordon was stunned. "I didn't have anything to do with this!"

"Yeah, right," he saw his body sneer at him. "This sort of thing has your name written _all_ over it! Whenever there's trouble, it's because of _you_. Whenever there's a prank, everybody _always_ looks at _you_."

Gordon scoffed, and tried to stand up; nearly losing his balance as well. It felt odd, he thought, suddenly being able to stand up taller than his brother. It felt... unnatural.

Gordon spoke low as his temper rose. "The only thing I'm guilty of right now _Scott_, is of waking up in this nightmare! For all I know, it could've been _you _who did this!"

The two froze as they heard a knock at the open door. They both looked over angrily to see the youngest, Alan, peer at them through half-open eyes.

"Everything okay in here?" he asked dutifully, though he still looked half-asleep with his hair stuck out at all angles. "I thought I heard a scream..."

He peered in to see 'Gordon' standing closest to the door, and 'Scott' towering over him threateningly, having clearly just been woken up. They both were staring at Alan in slight shock. Alan turned to 'Gordon.'

"What's going on, Gordy? Why're you in Scott's room?"

'Gordon's' face flushed red, and he was stammering as he thought of a reply. "Er... well Al, I, er..." he stumbled out.

"He pranked me," 'Scott' said irritably.

"Really?" Alan looked slightly amused. "At this time of day? Gordo, I'm impressed. Have you two made up then?"

"Er, what? Ah, yeah... Sure. We made up." As he spoke, Scott gave Gordon a disbelieving look. _Why on earth would Gordon say I pranked him, even if we __had__ only __just__ made up?_ He shook his head slightly in puzzlement – it didn't make any sense. But then, this _was _talking about Gordon and Alan here... and who _knows_ what their thought processes consisted of...

Alan looked pleased. "That's good – it was getting tiring, hearing all of the arguments honestly..." He turned and walked away, leaving them to it.

Gordon sat down heavily; ruffled the hair on his head sleepily and looked pleased with himself. It wasn't often that he had to think fast this early in the morning, but he was happy that they had managed to keep this from Alan. All of this was just a little _too_ disbelieving, he reasoned; they'd both be sent to the nuthouse if they started carrying on about being in each other's bodies.

The two men slowly exhaled, feeling relieved that their small crisis had been hidden from their brother. If both Jeff and Alan were no different, it seemed clear now that everyone else was probably their usual selves. Why had this happened to just them?

Facing each other once more, their faces became composed, as they understood the seriousness of their situation.

Gordon was blunt. "So what are we going to do?"

Scott looked over at 'himself' critically. He didn't know how to read his own expressions very well, but if he didn't know any better, he would think that Gordon honestly looked confused.

"So you're really saying that you didn't have anything to do with this?" Scott asked, despairingly.

"Are you _insane_?" Gordon growled in Scott's low bass. "Why would I want to be _you_?"

"I don't know – but I sure as hell don't want to be you, either!" Scott's anger flared up once more and he began to pace heatedly, before turning to face Gordon – or more correctly, _himself _– again from across the room. "Seriously, how else can you explain this?" Scott asked.

"You're asking me? YOU'RE the one that woke me up, standing above me like some axe murderer in a terrifying horror story – and you want ME to come up with an explanation?"

"Okay, fine! It wasn't you! Jeez, one would think that you'd be jumping to take the credit for this one..."

"Well, you're wrong, Scott... I don't want anything right now but _me_ back." Gordon felt deflated as he lost his steam, only to be replaced by worry. They sat in silence for a minute.

"Is today Friday?" he asked Scott suddenly.

Scott looked at him strangely. "Wow, that thought came from left field, didn't it?" Scott let out sarcastically. "No, Gords – it's Tuesday."

"Oh," Gordon spoke dejectedly. "I was thinking this might have been a 'Freaky Friday' occurrence – you know that old movie, where this whole thing only lasts 24 hours? Maybe it's something else instead though? How about, 'Terrifying Tuesday?'"

"Sounds about right," Scott grumped, and walked over to also collapse onto the bed. His back flared again in sudden pain and he flinched. Gordon didn't notice though, as he was looking towards the window.

"Do you think we're going to stay stuck like this?" he asked quietly.

"You're asking me, Gords? You know as much as I do!"

"Yeah, but – I suppose what I mean to say is...well... do we tell anybody?"

"NO!" Scott spoke fiercely, yet in hushed tones. "Not under any circumstances! Can you imagine what they would do to us if we told them? We'd find ourselves in straight-jackets before we knew it!"

Gordon chuckled in Scott's low, dulcet tones, making Scott look at him in shock.

"What?" Gordon defended. "It's not often I get to see and talk to _myself_ as another person – it's funny! Though, now that I'm actually starting to think about it - maybe we _are_ insane? I mean, have you ever heard about anything like this before?"

Scott looked deflated. "No," he stressed quietly. Then he perked up. "But we can research it!" He quickly crossed the room, turning on his computer and logging in with his password – ensuring that Gordon had turned his head away first.

Forty-five minutes later however, they both had to admit defeat.

"Seriously?" Gordon griped. "Nothing? Stupid computer! I thought we would've at least been able to find something besides a few myths and folklore stories!"

"I guess not," Scott spoke quietly, then grimaced as his stomach growled loudly at him.

Gordon however, looked ill at the thought of having breakfast. "So how ARE we going to face the family as each other?"

Scott looked at him incredulously. "Come on, Gords, we _look_ like each other – essentially, to everyone else; we ARE each other - how hard could it be?"

* * *

><p>Evidently, it was a lot harder than they thought.<p>

"So Gordon, you didn't go for a swim this morning," Jeff spoke up as he looked over the breakfast table at the redheaded aquanaut. "Are you feeling okay?"

_Despite how the whole morning's going so far?_ Scott thought. It was so ludicrous to think of how quickly they had stuffed up already, by Gordon nearly sitting down in his usual seat at the breakfast table, before realising what he was doing. Virgil, although not quite awake yet, had peered at who he thought was 'Scott' in confusion, as Gordon made a poor excuse for his actions and went and sat in Scott's chair.

"Yes, Father, I feel fine," Scott now spoke. "I – er, I pranked... Scott... this morning, so that kind've took up my time." He looked pointedly at 'Scott' across the table.

Jeff looked surprised. "Really, son? Hmm, after the feud you were having yesterday, I was sure you two weren't talking; did you make up?"

Gordon spoke up, as Scott, from across the table. "After I knocked him around a little bit Father, for putting his alarm next to my head and turning it on _loud_ – yes; we eventually settled our differences."

Jeff grinned. "Good! I'm pleased for the both of you; so how about we all do our debrief from yesterday's mission straight after breakfast?"

Gordon looked up. "Actually, Father, I was wanting to do my – I mean, _Gordon_ here, needs to do his exercises, and I thought I might do a few laps in the pool as well," he corrected himself quickly.

"Why are you jumping in the pool, Scott? You normally go running," Alan quipped from the end of the table. Unfortunately, his early wake-up meant he was more awake than usual at the breakfast table.

"Yeah – I was talking to ...Gords here, and thought I might try something new for once," Gordon spoke up. He really didn't want to miss out on his usual swim!

Scott, for that matter, was a runner at heart; and had no intention of going swimming. However, he couldn't very well say anything at the table; he could already see Virgil's suspicions rising at how weird 'Scott' was acting.

He would have to speak to Gordon later about how he was portraying himself – after all, Scott was certain that _he _had never whined in that particular tone.

Jeff looked over at his oldest son. "I don't see why not – okay boys, its 0830 now; we will gather in my office at 10 hundred hours to debrief."

Scott, or 'Gordon,' to everybody else; stood up to leave the table. "I'm done," he declared. "Thankyou for breakfast, Kyrano," he spoke politely as he left, intent on going for a quiet run and a quick shower before he reported back in for the debriefing.

"Uh... Ss – Gordon, wait up!" Gordon got up from the table and bounded after Scott, leaving Virgil floundering as to why 'Scott' would leave the table without his usual courtesy 'thankyou' to Kyrano.

Jeff; meanwhile, was pleased to see that the boys had woken up on the 'right side of the bed' as the saying goes... perhaps they wouldn't need this treatment of Kyrano's after all?

Kyrano however, glad to see that his 'voo-doo' potion had actually worked; gave a mysterious little smile as he left the dining room.

* * *

><p>Safe now from prying ears, Gordon sped up to catch Scott. "Scott! Wait up!"<p>

He pulled up short as he saw his original body turn to face him, irritation showing in his face.

"What do you want, Gordon?"

"What are you doing right now?" Gordon asked.

"If you must know, I'm going for a run," Scott stated.

"But you can't!" Gordon stressed. "You'll injure your – my – back even more; I have to do the exercises in the water to keep it strengthened. Especially after yesterday..."

"Sorry, Gords, but you have your relaxing techniques, and I have mine."

"Scott, you can't! I've tried running before, but all I did was jar my back – hasn't it caused you any pain today?"

"Nope," Scott supplied easily – after all, it had only been the occasional twinge. "I told you that you were causing a fuss over nothing; your back is fine. What you feel is imaginary pain – it's all mental."

"Scott, that's not-" Gordon cut in.

"So, _Gords,_ I'd appreciate it if you left me in peace, so that I can think about the predicament we're in and what we're going to do about it."

With that said, Scott walked off, leaving a spluttering but confused 'Scott' behind him.

He had taken no more than five paces however, when the Rescue siren began to resonate piercingly. The two boys looked at each other desperately, before professionalism took over and they both raced for the command room.

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><p>TBC...<p>

* * *

><p>Bet'cha you all didn't see that coming! This is about the one storyline I haven't seen up here yet; a story where the boys switch bodies. Now that you know the big secret, I don't mind letting some more of my plans out of the bag... I have actually planned and thought out (roughly) each chapter, so I should hopefully know what and when and where to write, and unless my writing gets expansive, (as it already has – I had already written chapters 2 &amp; 3 before I decided I was on the wrong track and started again) then there will be about 8-10 chapters in this story.<p>

Also, I am a university student atm, with lots of assignments due, so I will be trying to curb myself from focusing on this _too_ much, so that I may try and hand them all in on time! (But don't worry, this is always going to be in the back of my mind! The next chapter should hopefully be up in a week or so, but don't hold me to that as I'm stressing about how to pull off the rescue scenes...)

Until next time, please leave a review! I appreciate any comments and ideas. (Especially for the upcoming rescue scenes!) :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Any and all mistakes are mine. The ownership of the Thunderbirds though? See full Disclaimer in Chapter 1.

**Refresher:** Gordon and Scott have switched bodies. Only Kyrano knows, as he was the one who did the 'swapping' under Jeff's orders, although no one else knows, including Jeff. Gordon and Scott don't know why they woke up in each other's bodies, or how it happened, but they are currently hiding it from their family members. Previously: They had just finished breakfast when the rescue alarm had gone off, calling them all to the Control Room.

**Remember:** When single 'apostrophes' are used around Gordon and Scott's names it is to remind you that other characters are actually talking to who they believe is occupying the body (to try and help avoid confusion).

* * *

><p><strong>The Treatment – Chapter 3<strong>

* * *

><p>"Scott, it's a collapsed mine in Australia," Jeff said as the two men entered. "I want you to start off now in Thunderbird One. We'll give you more details on the way."<p>

"FAB," Scott said as he automatically turned towards the door. He did a double-take as he suddenly realised that his father had not been talking to him, but to Scott's body, which was looking rather taken aback right now, Gordon having just realised what he was going to have to do, as 'Scott'.

But being the military man he was, Gordon turned towards Scott's picture on the wall.

"Wait!" Scott grabbed Gordon by the arm. He looked at his father as he shoved 'Scott' out the door.

Alan walked in and saw them. "Scott? Where are you guys going, Gordon? We need to help Virgil with finishing the prep work he was doing to Pod 5 for Thunderbird 2 before he takes off."

"We'll just be a minute," 'Gordon' said as he led 'Scott' away, leaving Alan to watch their retreat suspiciously.

Scott quickly shoved Gordon into the next room to avoid anyone hearing them.

"What do you think you are doing, _Gor-don_?" Gordon hissed angrily at his brother, trying to shake himself loose. "Are you trying to blow our cover? You're supposed to be me right now, yet I have never man-handled you around like that before! You still think you can push me around, even now?"

Scott gripped Gordon's arms even tighter. "What do you think _you're_ doing? You can't do this – _I fly Thunderbird One!"_

"Get off my back Scott; I know how to do this. As you well know, we've all had to learn how to fly each other's Thunderbird, in case the need arises. And this time it does. And even while it's true I haven't done Mobile Control before, I've seen how you handle it – it'll be a piece of cake. I know what to do."

"It's a lot trickier than it looks, Gords – you don't hear everything that happens over the 'waves.'"

Gordon looked at Scott beseechingly. "Seriously? You're gonna stand there and tell me that your_ '_area of expertise' sees action? All you do is stand around and give orders!"

"Scott! Where are you?" Jeff called out sharply from the control room.

Ignoring the voices, 'Gordon' continued speaking in hushed tones. "It's not just that, bro. I have to keep the local governments and emergency services happy. I have to keep the family of the victims under control, as well as any locals with a hero complex; I have to watch out for all of my brothers; I have to keep an eye on any dangers that may arise… there's a lot I have to consider."

Gordon shook himself free. "So you're saying that I can't do it?"

"No, but you're a man of action who can't stand back and watch; you're not used to doing that."

"And yet you are?" Gordon scoffed. "Man, if anything, I _am_ the one who's used to doing that. Do you not remember that I was stuck in a bed for 8 months? How do you think that felt, being forced to lay back and watch all of you go about your lives… so if anything,_ Scott_, I'll be able to do this job _better_ than you."

With that, Gordon stepped back into the control room, stalked over past the others and grabbed the wall's lampshades, opening Scott's chute that led to Thunderbird One. He turned to see 'Gordon' watching him with an odd look of despair on his face.

"FAB," 'Scott' spoke abruptly to everyone as he left.

Scott looked sadly at the now empty chute with quiet regret.

"FAB, bro," he muttered softly.

* * *

><p>Scott stood by the door, thinking silently while he watched Alan and Jeff, awaiting further instructions. Scott hoped that Gordon would be okay; he really hoped that Gordon could pass off as Scott while his emotions would inevitably be running high during the rescue. But also, what Scott <em>really<em> hoped for, was that Gordon wouldn't scratch his bird beyond recognition.

Alan and his father were at Jeff's desk, discussing what was to happen. "Virgil's already down in the hangar, Alan; after you boys have finished re-stocking with him, I want you to go with Virgil."

Alan sparked up at the realisation that he was going. Nevertheless, he couldn't help glancing at Gordon to see what his reaction would be to Jeff's decision. Surprisingly though, his brother seemed to hold no interest at all in heading out on the rescue. Instead he stood over by the exit, glancing impatiently at the clock on the wall, obviously thinking of other things.

"What about Gordy?" Alan asked.

"It's nothing, Alan," Jeff spoke sincerely, and looked over towards his redheaded son. "Considering what happened yesterday, I just want to be certain that your brother's back is properly checked over before he goes out again."

Coming out of his reverie, 'Gordon' nodded. "I'm okay, sprout. Just follow orders and you'll be fine."

Alan's brow crinkled just the slightest at his words, but was quickly wiped clear at his father's next order.

"Thunderbirds are go, boys!"

"FAB," they replied.

* * *

><p>"Gordon, get in here!" Alan called Scott over loudly. "Come on, we have to go! Virgil's already down there waiting for us."<p>

"I'm coming, I'm coming." Scott said begrudgingly.

On the way down to the hangar, Alan kept up steady stream of questions. "So what did you have to speak to Scott about before that was so urgent? Is everything okay? You've been acting kinda weird today…"

"It's nothing, Al. I guess I'm just having an off day," Scott said.

"If you say so," Alan replied as they reached T2's hanger. "Where do you want us?" he called to Virgil.

"I want you to grab the grappling hooks and stick them into the Mole; then check that _all_ of our safety equipment is there. Gordon, even though they should have emergency services on-site, I need you to go in and check that the infirmary is fully stocked. Father said there are twelve people trapped, so we can't take any chances on what injuries they may have."

"FAB" both men said as they went about their jobs.

Five minutes later, Alan and Virgil were in the air, having left Gordon behind back at base. Virgil was keeping his eyes on the clear skies whilst awaiting the mission details from Scott and his father.

* * *

><p>"This is Scott, changing to horizontal flight now, Father. Where am I headed?" Gordon said, trying to remember the protocol of flying T1 while attempting to think like Scott. It wasn't as easy as he'd originally thought, though he wasn't going to admit it.<p>

"There are twelve men trapped in a mine in New South Wales. Nine of them are fine for the local authorities to reach, as they managed to reach the lift; so they are able to be pulled up and out of the chute manually. However, there are three who didn't manage to make it to the lift shaft; John reports they are trapped next to a tram about 50 feet from the lift. According to John, officials were attempting to drill into the cave wall in order to complete a feasibility analysis, to evaluate the viability of the minerals and the financial risks in extending the mine. Unfortunately, they did not think it applicable to empty the mine of workers first as they did not expect a collapse. So the plan is to ensure the miners in the lift are out and assess whether it is possible to use the mole to dig a tunnel to reach the three missing miners. If it's not feasible, we'll have to think of something else, depending upon the stability of the mine."

"How do we know that the mine debris didn't just collapse the tram?" 'Scott' asked.

"Apparently one wall is one big solid rock, spanning about 100 feet, which, according to the local authorities, is next to impossible to collapse. The miners even had to dig alongside it when they first built the shaft. The theory is that the loose rock and beams above will be resting against that rock and the tram, ensuring that the men have a chance of being in some version of a 'triangle of life'. If you talk to John he can tell you more; I'll update Virgil on what I know so far and then you can discuss it further with him."

"Sure thing, Father. How's S-Gordon doing?" Gordon asked. He feared that Scott would currently be in a full state of rage which would be directed at Gordon, or at least him as 'Scott', at that present moment in time.

"Never mind about Gordon, he's down assisting Virgil and Alan. Focus on the task at hand, Scott."

"FAB Dad. Calling John now."

Ten minutes later after speaking with John, Gordon radioed Virgil.

"Thunderbird One to Thunderbird Two, can you hear me Virg?" Gordon spoke in Scott's dulcet tones.

"Thunderbird Two receiving; what is your ETA, Scott?" Virgil enquired.

Gordon looked at the instruments in front of him and tried to decipher their readings quickly.

"Ah, I am bearing on route… 156, travelling at a speed of… 10 thousand miles an hour," 'Scott' spoke falteringly over the radio.

"That's slower than your usual speed, Scott, are you having problems with the flight?" Virgil asked.

"No, Virgil, I'm just… feeling a bit queasy, is all. I might've eaten something bad at breakfast." Truth was Gordon was unused to the huge gravitational forces that were applicable when flying Thunderbird One, and was quite afraid of losing his breakfast. Nevertheless, he now attempted to bump the speed up another 2000 miles per hour.

"Increasing speed to 12 thousand miles per hour, Virg. You're right; my stomach is much less important than those miners' lives," Gordon amended.

There was a slight pause before Virgil asked again. "So what is your estimated arrival time, Scott?"

"Oh right… sorry. ETA should be in about another… ten minutes? Fifteen?" Gordon was unsure, as he was unused to travelling at these high speeds. However, Vigil was waiting for a sure answer. "12 minutes."

"FAB Scott. We're 32 minutes out, so you'll have 20 minutes to determine the most appropriate way to proceed and advise us on the situation."

"FAB Virgil."

* * *

><p>Back on the island, Scott was pacing the control room, appearing almost manic in his purpose, while Jeff sat at his desk.<p>

"Why don't you go do your exercises in the pool, Gordon? Relieve some of that tension that you seem to be having," Jeff smiled at his red-headed son.

"No, I'm fine, Dad," 'Gordon' grumbled impatiently. "How's Thunderbird One doing?" He sincerely wished that it were any other brother who was flying his 'bird right now... did it _have_ to be the never-take-anything-serious Gordon? He dreaded what might happen soon.

"Scott's fine, he'll be arriving at the scene in a few minutes. What are you and he so riled up about, Gordon? I've never seen you so worried about Scott on a rescue before. Actually, you've both been acting rather peculiar today – has something happened?" Jeff clasped his hands together in front of him.

Scott froze, and turned to face his father. He lost the tension in his body and sat down heavily, slumped over on the couch; wincing at his back pain as he did, as he'd forgotten to be careful. He didn't want to lie to his father, but now was not the time to be getting into any deep conversations. Gordon would receive payback for leaving him behind like this.

"No, we'll be fine, Dad," he said aloud. _I hope… _he added silently.

* * *

><p>Gordon arrived on site in just under <em>nine<em> minutes. So much for his mathematical skills.

_Please mom, whatever happens; don't let me stuff this one up,_ Gordon prayed.

It was still before dawn in Australia, and doing an overpass to assess the scene first from the air, Gordon could see lots of lights lighting the area and people running around like ants everywhere he looked, while machinery stood by idly, unused; and there was a large area of land where the mine clearly was. From the air though, there seemed to be no clear organisational attempt going on. It looked like chaos.

Managing to land with only a rough jolt, Gordon was glad to be back on solid ground and felt his? body's muscles lose its tension slightly. His stomach was still really queasy however, so he took a deep breath to ease his nerves before standing… and promptly lost his breakfast on the floor of Thunderbird One, near the door's entrance.

_Bugger, the flight must've been more rough than I thought,_ Gordon thought. However, he had no time to clean up the mess now. He opened up the door and clambered out, wondering what in the hell he was doing.

Grabbing the attention of the closest person, who advised Gordon that local rescue personnel were 500m off in a nearby shelter, Gordon took off in that direction, remembering at the last moment to grab the setup gear for mobile control.

Upon entering, word had already gotten around that International Rescue had arrived. The person in charge, Anna Temple, walked straight up to Gordon and introduced herself to him, shaking his hand firmly and asking what needed to be done.

"Hi, I'm Gor-Scott," Gordon stammered, before gradually finding his confidence. The number of people watching him, awaiting and relying on his professional judgement was slightly overwhelming. Gordon shrugged off the attention as best he could, which wasn't very difficult as he'd once managed to handle all the attention at the Olympics once before. "What's been done about the nine men in the lift?"

"Hi Scott; Anna Temple. We've so far managed to extract seven men from the tunnel. We're currently lifting the eighth one out now; he's maybe 100 metres from the surface." Anna was assertive and spoke briskly but clearly of the details. "We should have them all out within the next half hour. What else do you need to know?"

Gordon walked over to the closest table and started pulling out his equipment. "First of all, I need you to get men to clear a stretch of land, ready for Thunderbird Two to arrive. About 300 square feet to ensure everyone is out of harm's way. The land needs to be firm and stable, as we don't want to collapse any more of your mining tunnels. Their ETA is about 15 minutes."

Anna nodded, and indicated to the man closest to her. "Johnson, get Nicky Albright and 'Spud' Schofield to help you co-ordinate men to assist you in clearing a space. Probably the West side on the ridge is safest."

"Yes, ma'am," Johnson nodded and disappeared.

"I also need a map of your site, as I need to get the specifications of tunnel layouts. We are looking at using a piece of our equipment to drill a tunnel down to your men. Do you know if they are all together?" Gordon enquired.

Anna shook her head. "We spoke with several of the men trapped in the elevator and they each reckon that the men are in the same space. However we can't be sure, as the elevator door closed on them before the majority of the collapse happened."

A map was shoved onto the table in front of Gordon and he spread it out flat, looking at the detailed layout of the mine. "How far away was the drill you used to test the mineral deposits, from the collapsed area?"

Anna leaned over the blueprints. "The collapse is about here in Shaft Six" she pointed to an area on the map, "and the drilling was happening a half kilometre away, in Shaft Four, here."

Gordon converted the lengths and noted that, although the distance should have been sufficient, the layout of the tunnels spanned three sides of a square, indicating that an eventual collapse would have been imminent in its future. "Why did you not realise that you have three shafts here, which leaves all of this rock and soil open to a possible collapse?"

Anna looked over at her site conveyor, who shrugged and said, "They're on different levels, mate. They shouldn't have mattered."

Gordon was disgusted. "Well, obviously it did." Observing the map in more detail, he quickly pencilled in some measurements and pointed to a space that was a possible consideration for a clean, diagonal run by the Mole. "If we tunnel down from over here on a forty-five degree angle, we could reach those men within about 2 hours, as long as there are no further collapses. Have you conducted tests to check the mine's stability?"

"We're still in the process of doing that; they should have their results within the next ten minutes."

"Perfect," Gordon stood up straight. "Well, I'm going to radio my teammates and advise them of the situation."

"No worries. Let us know what else you need us to do." Anna shook his hand and turned to address her colleagues.

_Well, now we're getting somewhere,_ Gordon thought as he radioed in his findings to Thunderbird's Two, Five and Base Control.

* * *

><p>Half an hour later saw Thunderbird Two landed, with Virgil and Alan safely enclosed within the Mole and about to start drilling. The nine men had been lifted out of the mine's chute, and the mine's stability safety report had been received, with the go ahead for Gordon's plan.<p>

"Mole to Mobile Control, we're about to start drilling, Scott," Alan's voice came through the radio.

"FAB, Alan. You make sure Virgil drives her safely." Gordon sacrificed his usual joke and instead spoke Scott's usual safety warning.

"FAB, Scott."

* * *

><p>Two hours later, dawn had finally arrived, yet Gordon already felt exhausted from dealing with the stress of having to sit and watch as his brothers drilled down under so-many tonnes of rock, and with the locals who kept coming to ask questions and give advice. Still keeping in constant contact with Virgil and Alan while also having to repeatedly update his father and John on the boys' slow efforts – at least it felt to Gordon like they were taking their sweet time - was yet another necessary requirement he had to do, which was frustrating when he had nothing new to report. His stomach rumbled hungrily as well, since he had been unable to keep his breakfast down earlier.<p>

At least Gordon didn't have to deal with scared family members or the media. The mine-site was off-limits to the public, although Gordon had at least ensured that phone calls had been made to the trapped men's families to advise them of the situation. They all were now awaiting news from outside of the compound.

Alan's voice came over the 'waves. "Mole calling Mobile Control, do you receive me?"

"I hear you Alan, what's the sitch – ah, the situation?" Gordon asked, nearly tripping on his usual slang of the word.

"Pretty good, we've made good time. As we said before, we hit harder rock 20 minutes ago and had to decrease our speed, however we are now about 15-16 feet away from the miners. We are receiving thermal heat readings for all three, although no one seems to be moving. Slowing pace now to 18 rotations per minute; we'll advise when we have them."

"FAB, Alan. Let me know when you are about to extract."

Anna, came up behind Gordon, having heard Alan's report. "What's that distance in metres? Five?"

"Pretty much, yeah. Our boys shouldn't take long to retrieve your men and then it's a matter of returning."

Anna looked up at Gordon in admiration. "You boys are so amazing. It would have taken us weeks to reach them."

Gordon blushed at the praise, yet managed to sound professional as he returned, "It's our business, ma'am. That's why the people call us."

Anna nodded, and turned back to Gordon's monitoring set-up. "Do you know if they are still alive?"

"The fact that there are thermal readings is a good thing, however it is a slight worry about the strength of the reading, and of the fact that they aren't moving – we can only wait and see."

Anna wrung her hands together. "God, the impact that this incident could do on our stock shares if they're dead – it could ruin us."

Gordon looked at her beseechingly in anger. "Are you serious?! I would've thought that their lives would be more important above all else, ma'am. After all, _we_ consider it so - it's why we put our own lives at risk whenever we try and save someone."

"No! I didn't mean it to sound like that," Anna despaired. "It's just, I have a lot of workers and their families to consider – this mine employs nearly half of the men in this town, as well as others that fly in each fortnight from different states. Often about 10-15% of staff who get scared whenever something like this happens will quit – then we have to employ others, train them, ensure they have the right mindset to work… it's just a lot to think about, is all…"

Gordon nodded. "I understand. Occasionally we'll get a scare during a rescue and we'll worry about what it'll do to the rest of the team – being so close to each other, it would be devastating if we lost someone. Even now, I'm worried about my two buddies down there – there's always something that could go wrong."

Suddenly, Alan's voice piped up again over the radio, just as a commotion broke out amongst the workers outside. "Stop! What do you think you are doing? You can't go over there!" The shouting was loud as Johnson came rushing in.

"Miss Temple! Mr Scott! There's several people attempting to go over to the mine-site – I think its Joe and Stephen, Aaron's brothers!"

"Who's Aaron?" asked Gordon as he rushed outside, ignoring Alan's call-in.

"He's of one of the men still down there," panted Johnson.

"What are they doing here on-site?" Gordon fumed.

"They work here – they're not rostered on right now, but technically they could have easily entered the compound as they have the right clearances."

"Did no one tell them what was happening?" Gordon sprinted over towards where the men were last seen.

"They've gone! They've gone down!" Nicky Albright ran over towards them.

"Gone down where?"

"The shaft your IR buddies dug out!"

"Darn it!" Gordon swore. He keyed his watch, which was now vibrating anyway. "Mobile Control to the Mole, can you copy? You have to cease working now! Turn off your machine! We've had two men follow you down, brothers of one of the men. Do you copy?"

Virgil's face appeared. "Scott! What's going on? Alan tried to call you not two minutes ago! We've arrived at our destination and are about to open the hatch to get the men out. If there are men in the tunnel, you have to get them out before the fumes from the Mole overwhelm them completely."

"I know!" Gordon fretted. "Just do what you can, but sit tight while I deal with this! I'll inform you when I know more!"

Gordon stood silent for a moment, thinking "what would Scott do?", before nodding to himself affirmably and indicated to Johnson and Nicky, who were standing nearby. "You two - follow me! Are you both qualified to do search and rescue?" Gordon turned to race back towards Thunderbird Two, but heard their affirmatives as they sprinted alongside him. "Good. I am going to be sending you both down with a more efficient breathing apparatus to fetch your men out. Being that the slope is on a 45 degree angle, it shouldn't be too hard to walk down, grab them and get out again, however as the gravel is loose and could start a small rockslide, we'll have you both tied to safety lines as an extra precaution. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!"

Gordon reached the immense, green bird and rushed in, leaving the two men at the door. Less than a minute later, he rushed out again on a hover bike, with rope and equipment slung over his shoulders.

"Get on!" he called out. Once the two men had scrambled on the back, he gunned the engine and raced over to the entrance. Passing the equipment to the two men, he instructed how to use them correctly.

"I'd go down myself boys, but this is a job for you. Consider yourselves honorary IR agents right now, as I can't do this without you." Gordon passed one of them a walkie-talkie. "When you find them, let me know with this. They can't have gotten too far in – the tunnel would be about half a mile long, but they could have lost consciousness after a few hundred feet. The fumes can be dangerous if you breathe them in too long, so be sure that you don't take your masks off! Any questions?"

"No, sir!"

Gordon had to hand it to them for their complete professionalism – they hooked themselves up to their safety lines and checked each other's connections, before starting off on their own rescue.

Gordon, meanwhile, updated John and his father on the situation. Anna then arrived at a brisk pace, saying, "I've got ambulance services on their way in – I had previously instructed them to stay back until we got the last of the men out."

"Thank you very much, Miss Temple, that's good thinking," Gordon said, wiping at his sweaty brow.

"Please, call me Anna," Anna said.

"Then thank you, Anna," Gordon said. He turned to face the entrance to the tunnel, hoping that the two local men were able to get their jobs done safely and efficiently.

Gordon's wrist buzzed and he lifted it up to his face. "Hi Virg, how's it going?"

"All is going well, Alan's managed to collect two of the men – one is unconscious, and the second is hurt pretty bad, but the third one is alright – he's just gone to get him out now. It'll be a tight fit in here on the trip back, but that can't be helped. How's it going at your end?"

"It's going alright. I've sent down two of the local workers to fetch their men out; we've got emergency services here awaiting their arrival. After that, you should be free to crank up the Mole again and retract yourselves out of there." Gordon felt a bit light-headed after the adrenaline rush, and he must've looked it too, as Virgil again asked if he was okay.

"I'm fine bro – you just worry about what's happening at your end. You should be free and clear to exit within ten minutes."

"FAB, Mobile Control. You stay fresh up there," Virgil breezed. Gordon knew at his light tone though that he'd be getting further questioned at a later time.

* * *

><p>Another hour and a half later saw that daylight of the morning was well underway in Australia. The two brothers of the trapped miner had long ago been sent safely to hospital with nothing more than inhalation difficulties. The Mole had arrived back with the three men, where one man had a broken arm and another with a concussion and leg injury. They had quickly been taken away by more waiting ambulances. Everything was starting to quieten down and be packed up.<p>

It took Gordon two tries to correctly wrap up Mobile Control – it was one of those annoying fold-downs where it could only be done the one way – and Virgil and Alan were already packed up and nearly ready to go.

"Hey Al! Mind taking this back to the ship? I just need to let Anna know that we're off," Gordon called out, waving the bag containing Mobile Control.

Alan came jogging over and took the bag from 'Scott'. "No problems, Scotty. We'll see you back at base."

"Yep - sure thing," Gordon said.

Shaking hands with Anna, Gordon also shook hands with Johnson and Nicky Albright for their great work during the rescue.

"It took a load off my shoulders, so thanks very much guys," Gordon said honestly.

"No worries mate – just let us know if there's a sign-up sheet for International Rescue – maybe you can vouch for us," Nicky kidded.

"Ha ha, sure thing," Gordon turned to head back to Thunderbird One, looking forward to arriving home - although dreading the trip's G forces - when he received a strange call from Alan.

"Hey Al, what's up? You guys take off well?"

Alan awkwardly paused before answering, clearly giving 'Scott' a quick once-over. "Yep – everything's fine bro. I just wanted to say 'enjoy the drive home', though you might want to tidy up a bit first. You kind of left Thunderbird One in an _unusually_ messy state for you."

"If you say so, Al..." Gordon signed off, puzzled at Alan's cryptic message. That is, until he reached Thunderbird One and found that an awful smell awaited him. He'd forgotten all about the flight sickness he'd experienced all those hours earlier when he first landed.

"Bugger!" Gordon said aloud, before setting about cleaning up the mess. The horrible pungent smell would _not_ be making his drive home a welcome one.

Scott was going to kill him.

* * *

><p><strong>Hey everyone!<strong> Terribly sorry that I take forever between updates, but I _severely_ struggled with writer's block for this chapter, as I have no clue about mining whatsoever (which is why I kept this chapter so long, to make up for disappearing for a while!) I must say that I had quite a lot of help and inspiration from different writers on FF, as I am unfamiliar with the full workings of the Mole and the Thunderbirds. If I have accidentally taken liberties with anybody's personal take on the workings of the machines, then I apologise profusely, and please let me know as it was unintentional. Hopefully you will consider it as a compliment to your great writing skills!

Anyway, since I am now over this horrible hurdle of a chapter, it should be much easier for me to update more often! (I wrote other sections of this story as I was so stuck on this chapter, so now all I have to do is fill in the gaps!) although as I am a slow writer, and currently moving house and have several uni assignments due, please note that it may take a few weeks. However, I WILL be finishing this story, as I feel that the characters (and you) all deserve it.

So until next time, your words inspire me to write faster, so please consider this clue for the next chapter: Can anybody spot what Gordon might have done wrong during this rescue?


	4. Chapter 4

Wow… so sorry I took so long to update, everyone. My laptop crashed and I lost most of my notes etc on the story, and I was unable to find enough motivation to rewrite what I had lost until now – but as I'm _still_ waiting for my laptop's contents to be copied off I don't think I am going to be able to retrieve the documents anytime soon. I must admit, I have sort of forgotten what I originally thought Gordon did wrong on the rescue, so I will be re-interpreting my story so far to try and remember. My life is a mess! Here's to it clearing up so I can finish this story… with an extra long chapter for you to make up for my lateness.

*Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. Just borrowing to play with and will return when finished. They may be a bit ruffled though.

**Remember: Gordon is Scott and Scott is Gordon. 'Apostrophes' indicate their physical body, which is who other people see.

* * *

><p><em>Previously<em>

"Hey Al, what's up? You guys take off well?"

Alan clearly paused before answering, giving 'Scott' a quick once-over. "Yep – everything's fine bro. I just wanted to say 'enjoy the drive home', though you might want to tidy up a bit first. You left Thunderbird One in an unusually messy state for you."

"If you say so, Al..." Gordon signed off, puzzled at Alan's cryptic message. That is, until he reached Thunderbird One and an awful smell awaited him. He'd forgotten all about the flight sickness he'd experienced when he first landed.

"Bugger!" Gordon said aloud, before setting about cleaning up the mess. The horrible pungent smell would not be making his drive home a welcome one.

Scott was going to kill him.

* * *

><p><strong>The Treatment: Chapter 4<strong>

* * *

><p>It was after 1.30pm by the time they'd returned from the rescue site, dirty and exhausted but on a high. Gordon managed to get through the debriefing with the others, where he'd been berated for not dealing with the family members himself. Apparently, his presence in the public eye was required because Scott was usually a calming influence on others as he handled the rescues. By informing the friends and family members closest to the injured of what's being done to save them, they are less likely to attempt saving their loved ones themselves, thereby placing themselves in danger also. Which is exactly what had happened during the last rescue, because Gordon didn't speak with them.<p>

"It was at a mine site," Gordon defended himself. "The family members were over a mile away and I received confirmation that they had been spoken to about the rescue."

"Yes, but not from you personally. You usually set up a video-link if you can't speak to them in person," Jeff spoke.

"Well, I guess I just forgot. I'm sorry for not being my usual, perfect self." Gordon seethed, anger taking the best of him.

"No-one's perfect. I'm sure you did the best you could," 'Gordon' said from his chair. "But you did manage to get the two men out okay, and John checked with the hospital. They're fine now." Aware of the sudden silence, 'Gordon' looked around the table to find the rest of his family staring at him.

"What?" Scott asked.

Virgil shrugged. "It's not like you to console Scott, Gordy, especially of late. It's nice to see, that's all."

"No it's not, it's totally weird. What's up with you two?" Alan asked.

Gordon and Scott spluttered at his bluntness, and glanced at each other before quickly looking away. "Nothing, Al," 'Gordon' finally admitted. "We're fine."

"Yep, all fine here," 'Scott' spoke. "Look, is it cool if we go now? I have things to do, first of which is to take a…shower." he suddenly turned white as he realised something and looked down as he turned his hands over in shock and dismay.

Virgil noticed the bleak look on Scott's face, but was interrupted from saying anything as Jeff spoke up. "Yes, I think we're all done for now, we can re-convene at a later time once everyone's had a late lunch and cleaned up."

* * *

><p>Safe from prying ears, Gordon sped up to catch Scott. "Scott! Wait up!"<p>

He pulled up short as he saw his original body turn to face him, irritation showing in his face.

"What do you want, Gordon?"

"What should we do to protect our modesty?"

Scott laughed rudely. "It's not as if I haven't seen you naked before, Gordon. We're both men, we have the same body parts."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it," Gordon said softly. He noticed the tension in Scott's body and was suddenly distracted. "Wait - what are you doing right now?" Gordon asked.

"If you must know, I'm going for a run," Scott stated.

"But you can't," Gordon stressed. "You'll injure your – my – back even more. I have to do the exercises in the water to keep it strengthened."

"Sorry, Gords, but you have your techniques to relax and I have mine; which is with a decent run under my belt for the day."

"Scott, you can't!" Gordon hissed quietly. "It was injured yesterday. Trust me, I've tried running before, but all I did was jar my back – hasn't it caused you any pain today?"

"Nope," Scott supplied easily – after all, it had only been the occasional twinge. "I told you that you were causing a fuss over nothing; your back is fine. What you feel is imaginary pain – it's all mental."

"Scott, that's not-" Gordon cut in.

"So, _Gords,_ I'd appreciate it if you left me in peace, so that I can think about the predicament we're in and what we're going to do about it."

With that said, Scott walked off, leaving an indignant but worried 'Scott' behind him.

* * *

><p>Gordon determinedly tried to ignore Virgil's obvious stare as he walked past the kitchen, however it didn't work.<p>

"Scott!" Virgil called to catch up with his brother, leaving Alan behind making the sandwiches. Clearly, the two of them had decided that food was more important than cleanliness. Alan was still in eyesight however and was watching them from the kitchen.

"Yeah?" Gordon turned to him abruptly.

"Care to explain what happened back there?" Virgil asked, folding his arms to indicate his seriousness.

Gordon frowned. "About what? How I forgot the vid-link? Come on bro, you know how it-"

"No, I mean about the mess you made in Thunderbird 1. Alan told me you were sick."

Gordon shot Alan an evil glare, which made his brother flinch and concentrate more on preparing the food in front of him. He groaned. "Oh, that. That was nothing, just a bit of motion sickness."

"You don't _get_ motion sickness, Scotty." Virgil's tone was cold.

"Well, on this occasion I did. But don't worry, Virg, I cleaned it up real good. Can you do me a favour and not mention it to anyone else though? It was pretty embarrassing…" That and also Gordon did _not _want Scott to find out. He didn't like his chances, but he hoped that his oldest brother wasn't planning to check on his girl anytime soon, as he still hadn't been able to get the smell out. Virgil however, looked slightly appeased by 'Scott's' admitted embarrassment.

"Only if you promise to tell me if it happens again. I don't want you to pretend to be your usual tough-guy self if you're truly ill," Virgil sighed.

"I promise." Gordon spoke as he finally made his getaway.

Looking at his reflection in Scott's bathroom, he glared at his new face in the mirror. Seriously, of all the brother's he could have swapped faces with, why did it have to be Scott's? He leaned forward and pulled a face, then manipulated it further by pulling on his cheeks and poking out his tongue. _Even my mouth feels different_, he thought as he ran his tongue over the unfamiliar teeth. It was totally bizarre and he didn't like it. Not one bit.

He gave the shower a pensive glance, before admitting defeat and closing his eyes.

Nope, he didn't like this at all. He wanted his own body back.

* * *

><p>Scott strode into Gordon's room and grabbed his brother's runners – after all, his usual shoes would be too big for his feet right now. Sneaking out of the house; after all, he didn't want people to realise that <em>Gordon<em> was going running; he did a few warm-up stretches and took off. Since he'd just eaten, he'd only take it lightly today, and hope to God that he would be back in his own body by tomorrow. He couldn't understand how they had come to be this way, in each other's bodies. What were they going to do about it if they didn't change back?

It took Scott a while to get a feel for Gordon's slim body. Thankfully, being that Gordon's body was built as a graceful swimmer, it was quite easy to adjust to the different rhythm – if only he could get over how freaky it was being so much closer to the ground. Although Gordon was only two inches shorter than Scott, right now those two inches threw his whole stride off.

He inhaled sharply as, for the first time, he thought about the consequences of what might happen should they be called out on another Rescue. There was NO way that Scott was letting Gordon drive his 'bird again if he could help it; his brother just didn't have enough practical experience behind the wheel. But then, he chagrined, there was no way that HE would be allowed to drive it either – not whilst everyone thought he was Gordon.

There was no question about it, he realised. As much as he wanted to keep this between them, as Field Commander, he was obligated to advise his supervisor of the situation – in other words, his Father. Scott shuddered, thinking of the dreaded conversation that was going to await him at home.

Feeling comfortable with his balance now, Scott decided to sprint a little bit and upped his pace, and had reached half a mile before-

"Argh!"

With a startled cry, Scott felt pain flare across his spine like a burning flame; in fact, it was _overwhelming_ pain. He collapsed onto his knees, nearly face-planted in fact; and knelt on the ground, trying to relieve the intense pressure. But he didn't know how to... He was acutely aware of someone who _did_ know how to deal with it though.

The question was: was Scott too stubborn to admit that he was wrong and request his help?

* * *

><p>Exhausted, Gordon dove into the depths of the pool, relishing in the feel of the familiar water against his unfamiliar body. On land, he felt awkward and gangly in his brother's body; the extra two inches made him feel gigantic, towering over everybody, and he wasn't yet used to the feel of Scott's body when he walked. Several times already today, he'd nearly lost his balance when bending over to pick something up.<p>

Never mind that each time he bent over, he was waiting for the expected sudden flare up of pain that wasn't received. Although his back was generally good and strong for him on the whole, he was always cautious of putting it under pressure and yesterday's strain injury couldn't help but stay in the back of his mind. It was like a little miracle to him right now, to suddenly realise that he didn't have to worry about it. Gordon smiled in anticipation of spending the rest of the day without pain.

But his general balance was still something that Gordon was going to have to seriously work at. He was a swimmer after all, not a gymnast on a balance beam!

He took a gulp of air and started doing his first lap, comfortable in knowing the pool's size and shape down to its every last inch.

He didn't understand why Scott had to be so stubborn – Gordon was _sure_ that his usual back pain wasn't imaginary, as it certainly _felt_ real to him.

Kicking his legs, he began to pace himself, and counted out the number of strokes he had until the turn – he had bet his brother's once that he could do this blind-folded. But that was before…

"Ow! Damn it!" he cursed as his hand slammed into the pool edge – he was lucky he didn't give himself a concussion by face-planting into the wall as well.

Lifting his body up for air, he realised that because of Scott's height, his normal number of strokes per lap didn't apply – and come to think of it, just that one lap had felt more exhaustive to Gordon than as if he'd done 4. What was up with that?

_Because this body isn't built for swimming,_ Gordon realised. _In Scott's body, I'm just a normal swimmer – he doesn't have the stamina that I have in the water, just as my body doesn't do great on land..._

With a grimace, he wondered how Scott was getting on. If he truly had disregarded Gordon's warnings about taking it easy, it was possible that he could have injured himself.

Pulling himself out of the water, Gordon used his watch to check on Scott.

"Gor... Scott Tracy calling Gordon Tracy."

It took a few seconds, but Gordon finally got a reply – but it wasn't the calm response that he'd been hoping for...

* * *

><p>Gordon raced inside to his bedroom, before realising that he needed <em>Scott's <em>shoes. After backtracking and collecting them from Scott's room, he slammed them onto his feet before racing out the door.

_Damn! Now this is what I call speed, _Gordon thought as he sprinted down the road.

Scott had told him where he was and that he was kinda... stuck. Gordon had given him a sympathetic grin, understanding exactly what Scott was experiencing, and told him to stay put until he got there.

Turning a corner in the road, he saw up ahead Sco - well, _himself _- curled up on his side on the ground, in obvious agony.

"Scott!" he called out. He came up alongside him and reached out to give Scott his hand. Scott shuddered in pain.

"It's okay, Scott; I know it hurts, but I'll have you better in a jiffy," Gordon sprouted cheerfully. He grabbed Scott's hand and positioned it along his back. "See, if you put your hand here, on this muscle – do you feel it?"

Scott grunted.

"Okay, I'll take that as a yes. If you put pressure on it, the muscle will release in about 30 seconds and you'll be fine. Always push along the muscle in the direction that hurts _the least_ and hold it...there... is that better?"

Since Gordon was more experienced, after showing Scott the stubborn muscle along his spine he grabbed it himself, quickly released it, and slowly watched his body unfurl carefully.

Once Scott was on his back, he released the pent-up air he was holding, "Jeez... wow... that hurt so much, Gords. I don't know how you stand it," Scott spoke with concern.

"It comes with the body, I'm afraid," Gordon shrugged. "After the accident, I just had to learn to live with the pain."

Scott chuckled softly. "Yeah, no doubt." He took a few deep breaths to relax himself, having a new appreciation on his brother's obviously high capacity to handle pain.

"Is that better now?"

Scott nodded. "Much."

He lay there a moment longer as both men sat in contemplative silence.

"Y'know, it's not often that you talk about your accident these days," Scott suddenly said quietly. He looked up to see his old body shrug his shoulders.

"Yeah, but it's in the past. You don't talk about the time you were shot down in Bosnia either, when you were in the Air Force."

Scott chuckled painfully. "Point taken."

Gordon stood up and held out his hand to Scott. "Come on, bro – after a hot bath and your strengthening exercises_, _you'll be right as rain. We'll jump in the pool and I'll show you how to do them."

Scott reached up and was pulled to his feet. They started slowly walking up to the Tracy compound. "Great – so now I have _your_ daily exercises to do..."

"Hey, I wouldn't complain – you're not the one stuck with them for life."

Scott spoke sharply, "At the moment, I am."

Gordon grimaced. "Yeah, true... but it's not usually this bad – it's just 'cause I strained it yesterday. Seriously, you'll be right to go out on a rescue this evening if we're needed."

"Yeah... about that," Scott looked apprehensive. He turned and looked at Gordon. "We need to tell Dad."

"_What?_ No way! That's not what you said this morning," Gordon looked shocked.

"I know, but as Field Commander, it's my responsibility to. He has to know. What if we're called out on a rescue? _You_ can't fly Thunderbird One again, at least not up to my standard, which Virgil will spot like a shark."

Gordon shrugged. "He kind've already has. But... Father? Really? I'd rather tell Lady Penelope, than him. At least Lady P is in England and can't very well tell the others."

"Yeah, but... he has to know. It could endanger a rescue otherwise."

"Can we at least save it until tomorrow? We might be back to our normal selves by then."

"But what if another Rescue comes in? We were lucky enough to get away with the first one. Which, by the way - that rule about speaking to the family members personally? It's only a recent addition, Father and I decided to include that as a SOP last week."

"Figures." Gordon groaned. He nodded in defeat. "Alright. Let me just say though that he's never going to believe us. He'll think that I – I mean, you – are pranking him. But you're the boss, Scott. If you think we should tell him, then we can at least try..."

Scott paused and gave a small, sad smile. "Thankyou, but... at the moment, I'm actually not the boss. Not officially, anyway. They all think I'm you."

He saw 'Scott's' eyes lit up at that thought, and could tell Gordon had started imagining how he could boss Alan around... maybe do his chores... he heard Gordon's mischievous chuckle erupt from his own, old body and left him to fantasise.

"Y'know, there was _one _good thing to have come from all of this..." Gordon spoke up, light-heartedly.

"What's that?"

"At least now I know my back pain isn't _caused by my imagination_."

Scott groaned. "Okay, okay; I admit, I had my foot in my mouth earlier. I'm sorry. Are you happy now?"

"Only slightly, my dear '_little'_ brother, but you'll get what's coming to you," he took off jogging with a laugh.

Scott growled. "Wait - who are you calling 'LITTLE,' Gords?!"

* * *

><p><em>Later that evening… <em>

Jeff sipped his coffee, glad that the debriefing had finished quickly, earlier in the day. It hadn't gone as bad as he'd hoped after all... in fact, Scott and Gordon had been guardedly civil to each other ever since. Jeff was beginning to consider that maybe the boys didn't need Kyrano's 'treatment' after all and planned to speak to him later about it.

Scott had even assisted Gordon in the pool that afternoon, which was most certainly a first! Although, Jeff was worried that Gordon's back must be giving him more grief than usual, especially if Scott was supervising – he would have to ask them both about it.

A knock came at his door.

"Come in," called Jeff.

Speak of the devil; here came his aquanaut now.

"Ah, Gordon! I was just going to come and speak with you, so you have perfect timing, son."

"Hello, Father. I was wondering if we could speak with you," 'Gordon' started.

"We?"

"Yes, G-Scott would like a word too," 'Gordon' said, as 'Scott' walked in the door and gave a clumsy wave.

"Sure thing boys, sit down. What's on your mind?"

The boys sat down. 'Gordon' looked around before suddenly hissing to his brother something that sounded suspiciously like, "Gordy - get the door!" and 'Scott' leaped out of his chair to close the door.

Seated once more, the two boys looked at each other, obviously wondering where to start.

"Well?" Jeff enquired patiently.

"Well, Father – the thing is; this morning, we – ahh," 'Gordon' struggled how to put it.

"To put it bluntly, Father – we weren't ... ourselves," 'Scott' spoke up strongly, then shared a look with 'Gordon'.

"Oh?" Jeff was confused. "I'm confused – are you trying to tell me that you two _didn't _make up this morning?"

"No, Father. I mean, yes, it's true that we didn't really make up, but we were kind of forced to, under the circumstances." Scott admittedly felt as though he was starting to regret their decision to come and speak with their Father.

"What circumstances? Spit it out, Gordon, it's not like you to stumble."

'Scott' took a deep breath. "He's not Gordon, Dad... I am."

"…Come again?"

Scott seemed to have regained his ability to speak clearly, for he spoke up; "And I'm not Gordon; I'm Scott."

Now Jeff was flustered with confusion. "What?"

Gordon was nothing if not blunt. "We woke up this morning as each other, Dad. I'm him, and he's me."

"...Right." Jeff turned to his oldest, an amused smile on his face. "So you're saying that you're not Scott. You're saying that you are Gordon, in Scott's body..."

"Yes, Father," Gordon said.

Jeff turned to the redhead. "And you think that you're not Gordon. You're saying that you are Scott, in Gordon's body..."

"Yes, sir," 'Gordon' looked relieved that Jeff was getting it.

"Wait a second. Father, you said 'you think'..." the real Gordon was quick to pick up on his words.

"Well, yes," Jeff said. "I'm waiting for the other ball to drop. Where's the punch line?"

"Punch line?"

"Yes – you're trying to pull one over on me, aren't you… A prank."

"A pra- Wait; Dad, this isn't a prank, this is serious! We're really worried about what's happening to us here," the two young men protested.

"I told you he would never believe us, Scott!" 'Scott' turned to face 'Gordon'.

"And I told you that it didn't matter. He had to know, because it will affect IR!" Scott, in Gordon's body, turned back to his Father. "Dad, you _have_ to believe us; because if we get another call-out, HE can't fly my bird!" he gestured wildly to indicate 'Scott', who looked defensive.

"Now, wait a second, I can too fly One! In fact I already have. Just because I'm not as experienced as you, Scott, I can still handle it. I've been in the simulator hundreds of times!"

"Yes, but usually for Thunderbird Four! But Gordo, I'm the one who handles the public, while you go in and get the trapped people out!"

"Are you saying that I can't do your job? Dealing with the public is _easy, _in comparison to what I normally do! It'd be a breeze!"

Meanwhile Jeff had first started listening to their conversation with a smile on his face, which by now had dropped off and his face had turned considerably pale, as he realised... they were telling the truth. They were ACTUALLY each other... Jeff was flabbergasted, but quickly put the pieces together in his mind; Kyrano; the boys; the Treatment...

Oh…My…God.

"Boys, stop! I believe you! I BELIEVE YOU!"

The boys stopped arguing and turned to face him. "You believe us?"

"Trust me, if you _were_ yourselves, I don't see how either of you would have been able to pull off that conversation you two just had with straight faces... so yes, I believe you."

"That's great, Father," the relief Jeff could see on their faces was weight lifting.

Jeff held up a hand to get them to stop and indicated that he needed a minute. Thinking quickly, Jeff decided what to do.

"Okay, first off; we should get your brother's in here to-"

"No!" both boys shouted. 'Gordon' continued, speaking quieter. "Please, we really would rather we kept this between us, Father. It would be hard for the boys to believe, for one; and we're kind of hoping that we'll be back to normal by tomorrow."

'Scott' butted in. "Yeah, it's 'Terrifying Tuesday' instead of 'Freaky Friday.' Plus the ridicule that the boys would be able to have at our expense would last them a lifetime... please Dad, you just can't..."

Seeing 'Scott' whinge and plead was certainly an unusual sight for his eldest; but then, Jeff had to remember; it was actually Gordon in there...

"Okay, fine; it's ultimately up to you two I suppose; it's just going to make things more difficult."

"What will?"

"Your jobs... you're going to have to swap roles, to some extent."

"But Dad!"

"Gordon can't drive my 'bird again, it was horrifying enough the first time!"

"Shh! Be quiet, and I don't want to hear any complaints, boys; what I say goes, alright?"

"Right." "Okay, Father."

"So I'm guessing that it was actually Gordon who went to the rescue site this morning?"

At the boys' nod, Jeff confirmed his decision.

"Right. First of all, we'll have to play it by ear as each rescue is called up. But we know from this morning that Gordon can at least handle the basic flying of Thunderbird 1, so 'Scott-'" he looked at Gordon, "or at least, Scott's body, will still fly T1. But!-" he raised his hand to cut Scott off, "_you _Scott, will officially take Gordon here up _first thing_ tomorrow morning before anyone else is up, to teach him the finer details of flying One."

At 'Gordon's' look of fury, Jeff reaffirmed, "That is, unless you want Alan flying your bird because we've told everyone who you both really are right now?"

Scott closed his eyes in defeat and shook his head.

"Then, should we need a water rescue, Scott or 'Gordon' should I say, can stay with Mobile Control, while 'Scott' takes his place in the rescue. We'll just tell everyone that Scott needs the practise at handling Four."

Gordon looked puzzled but pleased. "Wait – why doesn't Scott just do the rescue? It's not as though he hasn't driven Four himself and everyone knows that I would probably cause an argument if 'Scott' is given seniority during a water-rescue.

"Because your brother is-" Jeff started.

"No, wait – I'll do it, Dad. It'll be a cinch to handle Four."

Jeff looked him over gravely. "Are you sure, son?"

Gordon looked at his old body quizzically as his face showed an unusual dark stubbornness.

"Yes. I can do it."

Jeff nodded slowly. "Okay, then. We'll give that a try. To everybody else then, 'Gordon' will be doing the rescue, should any water rescues come up. With any luck though, Four won't be needed.

Jeff sighed in acceptance of the current events. He'd brought it on himself, really, by accepting Kyrano's 'test'. He just hadn't realised it had started so soon. But since they had been getting along well so far, maybe this was for the best.

"Okay boys, since you are officially taking on each others' roles, I would suggest that you get some practise in at being each other. That means that _you_ are Scott and _you_ are Gordon," Jeff pointed firmly at each of them in turn. "Watch what you say at home but especially out on rescues; we don't want the other boys to wonder what's going on with you two and become distracted at their jobs. To be distracted is to be-"

"-is to be defeated," Gordon and Scott said wearily. It was something that had been drilled into them since before International Rescue began. "Yes, we know, Father."

"Good." Jeff smiled. "Now, I also wanted to chase up about Gordon's back. I saw you both in the pool earlier." He looked at Scott, then Gordon. "Is everything alright with it?"

"Yes Sir, we had a bit of a miscommunication earlier, but hopefully that's all cleared up now. I was in there to show Scott – I mean, 'Gordon' – how to do his exercises correctly." Gordon said. There was no need to worry his father about his back when he knew how to deal with it accordingly.

Scott looked at him. "Are you sure it's fine? Because after being on the receiving end of one of your spasms today, I don't fancy having another."

"Well, now you know so you'll be aware and prepared for it next time," Gordon affirmed. "If you had listened to me in the first place, it wouldn't have happened."

"If you had followed proper protocol in the first place, it wouldn't have happened," Scott spat.

"Boys, boys… Cut it out and get some rest, okay? We can only hope that you're both back to normal by tomorrow. But I'm not holding my breath at this rate…"

"Yes, Dad."

"Goodnight, Father."

"Sleep well, boys."

Watching Scott and Gordon leave the room, Jeff leaned over and calmly pressed a button on his phone. However, his voice was unfortunately a bit _too_ polite.

"Kyrano, can I please see you in my office? _Immediately_?"

* * *

><p>Uh-oh. Looks like somebody's in trouble. Lol.<p>

I'd love to hear your thoughts on the chapter above. Is it still flowing well? Does anyone have any ideas for good interaction scenes I should include between any of the characters? I'd love to hear from you...

And again, my most sincere apologies about how late this update is. But hopefully I will get better at them. Fingers crossed! But not to fret! I love this story, so I WILL get there in the end! I have it all mapped out :D


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